


Teasingly Yours

by qwanderer



Series: A Home Dearly Fought For (VPRP-MFERP Stories) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Autistic Ina Leifsdottir, Gen, Leifsdottir and Rizavi make friends, What are jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: "I haven't heard your name?" Riz's eyes widen as she visibly goes back through all of their interactions in her head. "...Huh! You’re right, I haven't. Wow, this kinda just,” she pauses to make a loud sound that’s akin to an explosion, hands spreading wide from her forehead. “Y’know? That’s crazy. Well, probably not that crazy. I mean, this whole time Griffin has only ever addressed you as Leifsdottir or Leif—which is funny since that’s your dad’s first name. Oh my gosh, does he know that? He should, right? You guys grew up together, right? Right. Also it’s funny because you also just call him Griffin or Griff, which totally reminds me of those cop shows, you know?”Rizavi makes a pose, hands pressed together and mimicking holding a gun. “Like Mulder and Scully. Benson and Stabler. Super close and got each other’s back but also like, you know they’ve got something going on between them. Professional and dedicated but totally into each other. Romantic tension and all that.”She finishes her spiel with a raised brow and a half-lidded look that she tops off by nudging Ina’s arm with her elbow, “Eh? Ehh?”"We are not together," Leif says primly.
Relationships: Ina Leifsdottir & Ina Leifsdottir's Dad, Ina Leifsdottir & Nadia Rizavi
Series: A Home Dearly Fought For (VPRP-MFERP Stories) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1334101
Kudos: 4





	Teasingly Yours

**Author's Note:**

> I fully admit that this story mostly exists because I spent months and months RPing as Ina and thinking of her name being pronounced in the logical icelandic manner before the next season came out and Rizavi pronounced it the /other way!!!/
> 
> But also it's a cute slice of the story.

The result of the isolation test was… successful.

Though perhaps the word  _ successful  _ is a bit misleading. When the doors opened and the four cadets stepped out, the air that surrounded them was one of weary relief and a silent understanding. The impression they got from the higher-ranked officers was that the very fact they’d emerged without throwing their uniforms on the ground and swearing to never work with one another was a major win. So long as they could work together as a cohesive unit, that was the only thing that mattered.

Hours later they were changed into the very first test flight suits for the first time and properly promoted. The cadets were now official test pilots and this meant that their days would consist of running intensified Galra Sims, focused hours of interpersonal connection that consisted of sparring, group physical training, and even moving their living quarters within the same wing. 

As part of their training, they would be spending most of their time strictly in the company of each other and that… that is harder for Ina Leifsdottir than she’d previously realized it would be.

Having learned to tolerate each other in a month is one thing, and learning to respect each other in the hours after is another. But, as Ina takes in the information of the schedule that would run the rest of the following few years…? 

She realizes then that this was the beginning of a monster of a test she can only now begin to truly comprehend. 

Sure, the team no longer has the screaming matches that plagued them during Isolation, and their attitude is cordial, even purely professional. But, if Ina knows anything about other people, it is that everyone has their breaking point. Would her team truly be able to handle this much of her for that long? Could she?

The dinner that follows their official graduation as test pilots comes with a reveal that Ina does not expect.

Standing at the door of the mess hall is none other than Commander Leif Einarsson, and it is a  _ very much _ welcome unforeseen circumstance.

The sight of her father, blond and blue eyed, with freckled cheeks that hold the wiry square frames of his glasses, is enough to make her heart squeeze with a profound desire to find her place within his arms again. As expected, he gazes at her, eyes warm on that special place on her forehead that feels like a welcoming touch and Ina very nearly forgets herself. 

Only the habitual nature of military training keeps her feet well placed on the metal floor beneath and she waits for the crowd of people to clear to contemplate her approach. 

A touch on her shoulder makes her glance to her right where Griff stands and he’s smiling at her, eyes on the bridge of her nose. She’s known him long enough that she recognizes this particular curve to his mouth.

“Did you know?” she asks.

His smile brightens but a fraction, but it speaks immense volumes. “Got on the first flight out to get here in time. Go ahead. I’ll see you after dinner.”

Leif nods and it’s as good a dismissal as any. She turns and when she sees his face again it’s much easier to cross the space between herself and her father in a few quick, long strides. Then his arms open and Ina feels like a child again.

“Well done,” her father says, hand cradling the back of her head. Ina closes her eyes and sighs.  _ Well done. _

When he pulls away he pats her hair and his smile changes too. “Young Griffin’s looking stronger too. Was he hard to handle?”

“No more than when we were children,” Ina admits and when his expression lightens up into a brighter shade of amusement, Ina feels her own joy escape through the seams of her lips. “I missed you, dad.”

“I missed you, örlítið baun.”

“Will you be returning home after the dinner?” Ina asks, and perhaps it’s a bit early to bring up the potential sad news of being made to say goodbye so soon, but she needs to know. Her dad shakes his head instead. 

“Actually, I’ve been called to stay here for the next few weeks. My expertise is needed in filtering much of the data Commander Holt brought from outer space. I will be hard at work here, however, I have noticed we are allowed the same meal times until I am sent back to Iceland.”

Ina frowns. “That is not what was on the new schedule I have been given.”

His smile pinches and there is a familiar amusement that makes her anticipation rise. 

“Correct,” he says. “However, I have made a special appeal to Iverson. You’re welcome to join me for lunch every day until I leave. That is, unless you do not wish to.”

“I would very much like that, Dad,” Ina says and her heart feels lighter than it has been in many, many days.

She has reason to be glad for the respite, as life at the Garrison does not get any less challenging. When Commander Holt wakes up and resumes his duties, he immediately begins a concentrated effort to prepare Earth for war, with a centerpiece to his strategy focusing on the very alien technologies their squadron has been training to use.

He is going to build the most advanced ships Earth has ever seen, and Ares squadron is going to fly them. There is a lot riding on their pieced-together team. 

Ina has always known that becoming a pilot would come with pressures that would be a challenge for her to stand up to. She has never found it natural to work as a smoothly integrated member of a team. And they will need to be solid. The information Commander Holt has provided the Garrison about the enemies Earth is potentially facing and the level of technological advancement those enemies will bring is incredibly intimidating.

Is she really the person who should be here? She is not a sociable creature by nature. If she hadn't wanted so badly to fly, she would have stayed at home on the farm, and probably herded sheep and carded wool for the rest of her life. On hard days here, she sometimes wishes she had. On those days, she would prefer the company of sheep to that of her fellow humans.

But she had made it. They had made it. A significant percentage of potential mission crews took the isolation test and left no longer wanting to be part of their assigned mission. Two groups on record had called an emergency halt to the test before the third week. Ares squadron had succeeded where others had catastrophically failed.

Ina is proud of what they have accomplished, proud of her part in it. She still has trepidation about what is to come, both in terms of possible alien threats and in terms of continuing to work smoothly as part of a team. 

Perhaps it is strange for some that in the following days, Ina’s only wish for company is her father, and the words  _ boring _ or  _ odd _ that normally follow her more unusual choices don’t land in the back of her mind as heavily. That is good and it is welcome. The ease with which she dismisses the raised eyebrows feels right and Ina doesn’t feel like there is an uncomfortable breath of air following the back of her neck as she chooses to find her father and sit at his side.

As expected, the other C.O.s at the officer’s table have become used to her presence during meal times and that is also very good. They’ve all learned to save time hoping to spark idle chatter by simply nodding at Commander Einarsson and his daughter and returning to their own conversations and meals. Ina salutes and greets as expected before happily sitting at her father’s side. When his hand lifts to pat her hair, Ina accepts it and continues eating.

These precious moments are highlighted by her father’s mentions of Renny and what news there is of the farm back home. 

“We have more lambs now?” Ina asks one lunchtime, a couple of weeks into their new schedule. “How many?”

“Five more,” her father says as he chews down a bit of cooked carrot. “At the very least. Your renny was very happy to express that the sheep have been doing very well. It was a bit hairy since we weren’t sure if  Ólafur would agree to accept our offer for the new acres, but that was sorted right on time.”

“Dyn must be thrilled,” Ina says, happily bobbing her head up and down as she thinks of the old border collie. “He’ll have more chances to work and help out around the farm.”

“He’s been very carefully watching over the newer members of the family,” her dad says and they share a warm chuckle.

A moment later he covers her hand with his and gives her a squeeze. Just like that, Ina’s warm mood sobers and she looks at him, expectant.

“How has your training been with your team?” he asks.

Ina’s eyes fall to her food. “I believe we’ve discussed this.”

“I mean beyond your results in your simulations and other information I can read in the reports Iverson likes to boast about.”

“I suppose,” Ina says. “It’s been satisfactory. We’ve been improving our functionality as far as communication skills go.”

He gives her hand another squeeze. “ örlítið baun, I mean if you’ve been getting along with them. Would you say they are, perhaps, friends?”

At this, Ina considers. While her years of experience have included a few short connections with other children, she wonders again if this team can ever be anything like her relationship to the only person that she believes truly warrants the title of friend. 

“No,” she responds. “I do not believe the word applies.”

Her father nods quietly for a moment before he gives her hand another squeeze. 

When it’s time for them to part ways, her father embraces her and pats her hair and Ina is ready to move on when he presses a hand to her shoulder.

"It's been good to see so much of you, Ina," her father says, "but I do think it’s time we attempt to eat separately for a while.”

Ina’s heart drops, stomach feeling tight. Before she can protest she feels him press a soft hand to her hair and pat gently. “I say this because if your relationship with your team is important; it should be more than just on a professional level. And besides, you should give them more time to get to know you. Otherwise, how else will they come to know the Ina I know and love very much?”

She glances up at him, lips pulled into a frown. He pats her hair again and she nods before she straightens. He smiles down at her and his expression is enough to ease the painful clench in her stomach. 

“Go,” Leif says. “Go spend some time with your comrades.”

Ina frowns, “Comrades?”

“Perhaps it could apply now. It’s a start.” His smile broadens before he gestures behind her. Ina follows his line of sight until it lands to none other than Nadia Rizavi, standing off by the door and glancing her way. Judging by her expression, Ina can deduce she must’ve been eavesdropping. She gives a short sigh before facing her father once more.

“Thanks, dad,” she says. “I’ll see you later.”

“You know where to call me should you need me,” he says and gives her shoulder a final squeeze before he brushes past her. Rizavi straightens and salutes and it is amusing to see her look shocked when Commander Einarsson pats her shoulder as well before exiting. Sure enough, Rizavi’s eyes jump to meet Ina’s and her expression is… poleaxed.

Ina blinks and trains her gaze on a spot over the bridge of Rizavi’s nose and decides to approach then. 

“Hello, Rizavi."

Rizavi nods and then heaves a breath before she waves, “Hey, Leifsdottir. I’ve got a question for you.”

“Very well,” Ina says.

“Well, a few questions,” Rizavi says, pressing her knuckles together and touching her index fingers to her lips. It’s a curious gesture, one that Ina maps in her mind as they walk outside the mess hall. “Well, like one question and several follow up questions that have to do with one another.”

“Alright,” Ina says and Rizavi falls in step beside her, legs taking wider strides than Ina believes is normal. Ah. Ina slows down by a margin and Rizavi’s steps match something less pressured. This is pleasing, she’ll want to let her father know of this.

“Okay, so, big question,” Rizavi says, as if she hasn’t noticed their change in pace at all. “You’ve been sitting at the officer’s table for a while now. I figure that’s because of Commander Einarsson, right? So, I wanna know… are you like… related or something? Because you definitely look alike, but I wanna be sure.”

“Commander Einarsson is my father, yes,” Ina says. 

“Oh, good!” Rizavi exclaims, a bit too loudly for Ina’s tastes. “So like, is he your real dad or how does that work?”

Ina’s eyebrows cinch together, confused. “I am afraid I don’t follow.”

“You two don’t have the same last name, so I was just wondering if that’s because you’re biologically related but like maybe your mom remarried or something? Or maybe you have another dad and you just took his last name instead.”

“I am Icelandic,” Ina says and almost stops right there. At Rizavi’s expectant look, she continues. “In our culture, our last names are simply a translation of who our parents are. My father’s name is Leif and I am his daughter. Thus, Leifsdottir.”

“And his last name is Einarsson because he’s the son of Einar?” Rizavi asks, though Leif suspects rhetorically. She nods anyway. “Okay, yeah that makes sense! Last question.”

Rizavi does the same hand gesture as before, knuckles together and index fingers touching, thumbs spread in a makeshift triangle. She takes a few faster steps forward before stopping in front of Ina. 

“Your name,” Rizavi says.

Ina blinks. “Yes?”

“It’s pronounced ‘ee-nah’, not ‘eye-nah’?” 

“That is correct,” Ina says.

Rizavi slaps her palm to her forehead and the resulting smack nearly makes Ina jolt in surprise. “Wow! Okay, that’s totally my bad. This whole time I’ve been calling you the wrong thing in my head!”

Leifsdottir raises an eyebrow. "That can happen with words you have only ever seen spelled. Especially in English. In Icelandic, the pronunciation is fairly straightforward."

"I haven't heard your name?" Riz's eyes widen as she visibly goes back through all of their interactions in her head. "...Huh! You’re right, I haven't. Wow, this kinda just,” she pauses to make a loud sound that’s akin to an explosion, hands spreading wide from her forehead. “Y’know? That’s crazy. Well, probably not that crazy. I mean, this whole time Griffin has only ever addressed you as Leifsdottir or Leif—which is funny since that’s your dad’s first name. Oh my gosh, does he know that? He should, right? You guys grew up together, right? Right. Also it’s funny because you also just call him Griffin or Griff, which totally reminds me of those cop shows, you know?”

Rizavi makes a pose, hands pressed together and mimicking holding a gun. “Like Mulder and Scully. Benson and Stabler. Super close and got each other’s back but also like, you  _ know _ they’ve got something going on between them. Professional and dedicated but totally into each other. Romantic tension and all that.”

She finishes her spiel with a raised brow and a half-lidded look that she tops off by nudging Ina’s arm with her elbow, “Eh? Ehh?”

"We are not together," Leif says primly.

"Uh huh,” Rizavi says as she lifts her hands. “No, yeah, I get it. You’re close but not  _ that _ close, right? Mmhm,  _ tooootally _ . Makes perfect sense.”

Ina purses her lips for a moment, not convinced by her words, but of course, as she’s come to expect from Rizavi, the woman doesn’t give her the chance to counter before she’s moved on. 

“Eeeeenah,” Rizavi says, eyes squinting and finger tapping her lips. “Hm. I’ll try to remember that. Gotta admit, I like the way it sounds better. More phonetically sound than ‘eye-nah’. Ha. Well, feel free to just yell at me if I get it wrong again.”

To Ina’s relief, Rizavi is walking again and it’s easier to follow her new line of thought now that they were physically pulling away from the previous conversation. Still, Ina shakes her head, "I am not going to yell at you."

“Okay, sure, not literally,” Rizavi says as she waves her hand side to side, possibly flippant, or perhaps dismissive? Another curious gesture but also a familiar one. Ina catalogues these with other instances, and it seems they’re happening more frequently. “But if you wanna, you can. So I can make sure to pronounce your name correctly.”

"Why?” Ina asks, curious. “I wouldn't mind. It reminds me of my grandfather, Einar."

Rizavi glances at her, eyebrows furrowing for a second."So there  _ are _ Icelandic names that sound like that?" 

Ina nods. Rizavi heaves a sigh and shakes her head. "Besides the point. I’m saying, don't let me get away with it. It'd be rude."

"Forgive my saying so, Rizavi, but you are rude to a great number of people, a significant portion of the time. Why is this so different?”

Rizavi snorts, eyes widening. "Me? Rude?”

Ina’s stomach dips at that and she worries then if she must’ve said something wrong. 

Instead, Rizavi laughs,”Pffbt,  _ naaaaaah, _ that's just teasing! You know! Harmless pokes and prods. All in good fun! People know I don't mean it. As for your name, well, that’s just called manners. It’s good to have nicknames, but purposely mispronouncing a name is kinda mega pratty. Even I know where to draw the line.”

Ina's eyebrows draw together in confusion. "People know you are not being rude?”

“Eh,” Rizavi shrugs. “It’s give and take. But we all do it in good fun.”

This… this presents an opportunity, one that Ina has considered multiple times in the past but has been unable to narrow down with her own experience. Ina nibbles on her cheek for a short moment and considers her odds of success. Rizavi continues walking, completely unaware…  _ You should give them a try. _

Ina sets her shoulders and picks her pace up until she’s reached her teammate.

“How do they know?” Ina asks. “How do you know that they know? When does a friendship reach the point where teasing is acceptable?"

When Rizavi stops again, it’s to look at Ina and stare, baffled. Ina keeps her gaze firmly on that spot on her cheek, but her stomach still squeezes, uncomfortable at the piercing attention. It helps nothing that Rizavi’s eyes are so bright in color, making each stare feel all the more laser sharp.

"Oh, so, you don’t…?" Riz makes a thoughtful hum. "No, I guess you and Griffin don't really tease each other, do you?"

"No," Ina agrees. "I don't know if it is in my nature. Griff understands that I would have trouble parsing it, and also, I believe, thinks it would be beneath his dignity."

“It would, huh?” There’s that tone from earlier and Ina openly frowns. Rizavi spins around before Ina could fully place it on her and stares off to the side, thoughtfully.

"Welp!” She exclaims again, clapping her hands this time. Ina is glad she doesn’t physically flinch away in surprise. “I’ll file  _ that _ juicy tidbit away for later. In the meantime, it seems you are in quite a desperate need to learn more about teasing and its many interpersonal subsets and I, Nadia K. Rizavi, will be your willing teacher.”

Rizavi turns to weave a hand around Ina’s arm and pulls, guiding them both to walk again. “What do you say, Ina?” she asks, eyes bright and mischievous. “Are you prepared to accept my teachings as gospel?”

"I am uncertain what you mean by gospel,” Ina says but she nods, serious. “But, I am eager to learn.”

This is not an unwelcome development, Ina believes. Her chest feels lighter and she thinks about what she’ll say to her father next time they see each other. For now, this suffices, and Ina can’t help but feel relieved, though for what, she’s not entirely sure.

“Excellent! Okay, first off! Nicknames,” Rizavi says, pointing to the sky. “No more of this whole ‘Rizavi’ thing. Unless we’re working under official circumstances, you can call me literally anything else, like Riz, Rizzy, Nadi—actually no, not that one. Don’t actually call me that last one,” she finishes and there’s a brief shadow that flies over her eyes that Ina doesn’t know how to process. In a flash, it’s gone and Rizavi carries on as if it never happened.

“Riza is also a good one,” she says, patting Ina’s arm with her hand. “If you want to call me Nadia, feel free, I don’t really care. Mega Space Pirate Queen Supreme is also an excellent option—”

“Riz is fine,” Ina says. 

“A classic choice,” Rizavi—now Riz—says sagely. “With that, what nicknames would you allow me? Be careful, my creativity may surprise you.”

The idea alone sounds exhausting so Ina shakes her head. “Whatever you prefer, but ideally something that is not too far off from my name.”

“Alright, in the spirit of symmetry, how’s Leif sound?” Riz asks as they round a corner. 

Ina’s lips quirk in a small smile, “That sounds perfect.” 

“Alright, then,” Riz grins. “Let’s begin our first lesson, be sure to take notes, there will be a quiz at the end of the class.”

Ina’s eyes widen before she glances down at herself, hands fishing her pockets. Before she can attempt a protest, Riz gives her arm another squeeze. “I’m kidding. You don’t have to take what I say literally, unless I’m being literal, but I’ll be sure to keep you up to speed. Now—”

They round another corner and find Ina notes they are walking into one of the larger inside gardens that serve as a place of zen and calm. Riz lets go to bounce her way toward the nearest bench and pats the space beside her with a hand. Ina goes and sits beside her.

“You know what a joke is, right?” 

“Yes, I’m familiar.”

She rolls her eyes but she still smiles as she says, “Oh, right, yeah, puns. Okay.” Riz nods under the bright sunlight that pours in from the skylights above. She nudges her glasses up her nose with a press of a finger. 

“So! Teasing is not unlike joking, only instead of an obvious punchline, we’re working with something called a ‘zinger’.” Riz begins. “It’s known by many other names, like a ‘burn’ or a ‘gotcha’. Now, there  _ is _ such thing as good teasing and bad teasing. When you ‘burn’ someone it’s more toeing the line of more aggressive teasing, where to some it can be considered bad teasing. The line exists, but it’s different for most everyone.”

“How do you know where this line exists for someone?” Leif asks.

“Familiarity,” Riz says as she leans back on her hands. “That’s the best answer. The more you know a person, the easier it is to distinguish the line. The key is to find something your target is… ehh… a little embarrassed by, like laughing so hard milk shoots out their nose in a public setting! But not actually ashamed of, like say, being fat as a little kid and being picked on for it. Shame is no fun. No one likes having their mistakes or pains rubbed in their face unless they openly consent to being past that point and being okay with laughing about it. So, to start, just pick little things. Like the milk.”

Leif considers this advice. "How do you know, in your own experience, what those things are?" she asks.

"Admittedly," Riz says with a sigh, "I've had a lot of false starts. Thus, familiarity. You have to know the person well enough for it to be okay and even then, there’s personality to consider. Some people just can’t take a joke, no matter how well intended. They’re usually the ones I steer hella clear of."

Leif goes quiet for a moment, considering their initial start and how Rizavi had once kept her distance rather firmly prior to their team being put together. She glances up and considers the distance between them now. Riz is choosing to be closer… she doesn’t have to. This is something that settles in Leif’s mind in a way that is welcome.

"The person I know the best is Griffin," Leif says, "Though, he is not the kind of person to openly laugh at himself.”

She considers this again, looking away as she recounts their past experiences. “Well… he was. When we were younger. Not anymore.”

Riz’s eyebrows rise, and the interest is loud enough on her face that Leif wonders at it. “You don’t say,” she says and she purses her lips as she looks up in thought. “Hmm. Yeah. Well… you might not have actually had the best opportunities to learn with him. All things considered.”

"No," Ina agrees.

"Okay. Well." Riz sits up suddenly, expression eager as she eyes Ina up and down. "How would you feel about letting me try one out on you?"

"All right," Leif agrees. There isn’t any wariness to her voice and it seems Riz notices if her widening smile is anything to go by.

“Alright, so you’ve known Griffin, what, since you were little?” Riz asks and the question throws Leif for a brief spin. She tries to see where this is going but finds herself anticipating with a light flash of intrigue.

“Yes.”

“You must’ve been quite the little  _ sprout _ ,” Riz says. Ina stares for a moment until Riz’s expression falls. “Y’know, because you’re a  _ leaf _ now, get it?”

A soft breath of laughter bursts from Ina’s chest, incredulous. “Oh… I thought you hated puns.”

“And do you see how ridiculous they are?” Riz says, rolling her eyes. “Clearly the comedy for the feeble minded and the insufferable. This was my successful attempt to convince you that puns are silly and I am comically superior in every way.”

Leif smiles again and she finds the whole thing ridiculous enough to laugh softly again. She shakes her head, “I’m not sure if I understand… but I think I’m starting to.”

“Like I said,” Riz says and she nudges Leif’s elbow again with a soft bump. “Familiarity. Eventually, and if things go well… I’ll be able to tease you and have you laughing much harder than this.”

“Perhaps,” Leif says. After a moment of brief silence, Leif glances back at her. “Would you say this sort of… familiarity… leads to friendship?”

“Usually,” Riz replies and then she surprises Ina by squinting at her. “Why? Is it working?”

Leif doesn’t expect this but the implication does settle rather fast in her mind. “Is  _ this _ an attempt at building friendship?”

Rizavi opens her mouth to speak but the words seem to leave her, suddenly she’s reaching up and tugging at one of the long bangs that frame her face. “Uh… well. Yeah. Kind of.”

At Leif’s silence she hurried shifts on the bench to curl a leg under her. “Look, I… I know we did not get off to a great start.” Riz winces and she looks down, eyes clouded with emotions Leif would pick out if not for the surprise in her own chest distracting her. “I was… kind of a major bitch at a few points and I know we more or less left off Isolation as wordlessly agreeing to not get on each other’s bad sides again. But…”

Riz suddenly looks up at her and meets Ina’s eyes. Ina blinks quick and immediately directs her eyes to her eyebrow. The initial stab of discomfort ebbs but doesn’t quite go away. Suddenly, Riz reaches out and places her hand on Leif’s, fingers warm and oddly soft.

“I made a promise,” Riz says, voice determined. “This is bigger than me. Bigger than us. If Commander Holt is for real about all this, then that means we really do need to figure out how to trust in each other. Griffin’s kind of a hard ass and doesn’t like to hang out after we do anything, uh… no offense... and Kinkade still hasn’t opened up to me so…” she sucks in a breath and sighs. “I hope maybe you and I can start over… maybe become friends?”

There are details, gestures, and mannerisms Leif has been picking up on from her teammates since the doors were closed and they were left to figure out the alien simulations. With Nadia Rizavi, Leif has learned that if there is anyone out there that is better at hitting a target in a way no one expects, it’s absolutely her. 

The ease with which she moves decisively and with confidence to breach questions and puzzles that have left even Leif scowling and flummoxed is something to admire. With this, Ina feels like the majority of her worries and possibly a weight she hadn’t quite considered before have suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. 

_ I’ve never had anyone ask me to be friends before… not counting Griff. _

Admittedly, it’s an interesting feeling. Dare she say it, even a really nice one. Leif looks down at where Riz’s hand holds hers. She opens her fingers and experiments accepting her hold with a soft squeeze of her own.

“I believe introductions are unnecessary in this case,” she says. “I would be happy to try.”

Riz breathes and it sounds quite like a sigh of relief. “Oh, good! Great! Awesome! That’s very good to hear, Leif.”

She turns their hands and guides Leif’s hand into the position for a handshake. “Okay, let’s do this properly.”

There is a proper way to do this? Leif straightens to pay closer attention, watching aptly as Rizavi curls her fingers around her hand and bob their joined hands down in a certain dip. A handshake.

“Friends.”

Leif has no clue what happened but when Riz looks at her expectantly, she only does what she feels is right and mimics the motion, albeit a bit slower.

“...Friends.”

And then Riz beams up at her, bright and pleased. 

"Okay,” Riz says and makes a sweeping motion with her hand. “Back to teasing. I gave you a good example. Now you try." 

Leif is taken aback. Already? The lesson has barely begun and after that unexplained ritual she feels totally at sea.

"I really really don't think I am prepared for this. I am afraid I will accidentally be very rude. I believe I need more of a baseline."

“Start with an observation and just run with it,” Riz says. “Don’t worry, I can take it. Promise.”

Any other time Leif would have no problem coming up with something, but her hand still feels warm from where they shook. The present risk—that Leif says something that damages this new status quo—is not something she wants to attempt now. It’s too soon. 

And Leif would have no idea where to begin. The thought of attempting it at this point seems like an impossibly spoony task even with Rizavi’s encouraging looks and motions.

After a brief but definite struggle, Leif huffs and shakes her head. 

“Okay, that’s fine,” Riz says. She doesn’t sound upset. “So we work on it, no problem. That’s soon to come anyway. Familiarity and all."

Ina doesn’t bother correcting Rizavi that the phrase that usually follows Familiarity is that it breeds contempt. She doesn’t think it seems like it’ll fit anywhere in the symmetry of their conversation. And that’s different. A good different. 

Riz pauses for a second before her eyes light up. "Tell you what. We should have a code word."

"For what?" Ina asks.

"Impromptu training sessions," Riz tells her with a nod. "I'll take little digs at myself. The kinds of things you can tease me about later. And you..."

Riz stops, then, and just looks at Leif with narrowed, speculative eyes.

"Yes?" Leif asks.

" _ You _ have permission to be rude," Riz tells her decisively. "Or weird, or however you want to be. If you wanna go off on me, go off. Use your words and all… like we did in Isolation.” 

Riz grins brightly, “Everybody should get a chance to let their hair down, you know?”

Leif cocks her head to one side before she points to her own cropped and buzzed hair, “It is down. Well, as far down as it could be.”

A loud snort startles out of Rizavi and she chortles before her jaw snaps shut. She’s still smiling but her face bunches up enough to seem like she was grimacing through an apologetic cringe. “Hold on, you were joking just then, right? Please tell me that was a joke.”

Leif gives her a small smile. "Yes. I understand figures of speech. Most of the time."

"Oh, good," Riz laughs again and it builds on a sigh of relief.

"So what will the code word be?" Leif asks. 

"How about this?" Riz asks. "I'll call you 'eye-nah'." She waves a finger as she does, as if she were conducting the sound. Yet another gesture. "It won't be rude because it just means I'm teasing you about not knowing how to tease."

"Okay," Leif agrees. It's comfortable, having a formula for conversation.

It’s new, feeling like this, and the previous disinterest at sharing a meal with her teammates doesn’t quite feel so present right now. She thinks the word  _ friend _ as a foreign piece that wedges itself into her perception until it feels like it could fit. Leif just needs to test it out before reaching a conclusion.

“Would you like to eat lunch with me tomorrow?” Leif asks. “To discuss more lessons in teasing.”

“Why, Ina,” Riz says through a smile and her name flows out in a way that makes Leif feel warm, maybe even hopeful. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
